Let Me Know He Cares
by russelia
Summary: When Tom moves cities and meets Danny, he gets his life turned around in ways he never anticipated. Fletcher/Jones.
1. Chapter 1

After heaving a big sigh, Tom Fletcher plucked up his courage and pushed the double doors that led to the main hallway of his new school. His parents had just gotten divorced and his mother won his custody, which was why they moved from Harrow to Bolton, where they found a good-sized house near the school whose doors he had just opened.

The hallway looked almost exactly like his other school, except for the unfamiliar faces staring at him. There weren't many students there yet, since he came thirty minutes early. Some turned away immediately afterwards, while the gazes of the others lingered as he made his way across the shiny, minimally littered hall. He wanted to ask someone where his first class was located, but everyone seemed to dislike him already. _That's what I get for being new here, I guess_ he thought, and made his miserable way around the school all by himself, looking at the piece of paper in his hand and the rooms he passed to see which one his first class was.

When all hope seemed lost, he found a lone brunette boy with his back turned, digging in his locker. _Since no one's around… I guess it couldn't hurt to ask…_ He approached the boy and tapped him on the shoulder. The brunette quickly turned around and looked at him with the bluest eyes he had ever seen on a person before. He gave an embarrassed smile and scratched his head.

"Er… D'you think you can help me? I can't seem to find my first class," he managed to say. The brunette smiled at first, his teeth pearly white. The smile gave Tom the expression that he seemed real excited to have met someone new.

"I guess you're new here, yeah? What d'you have?" he asked Tom with a thick accent, his smile never faltering. Tom pulled out his schedule from his pocket, which he stuffed inside before he approached the boy. He never bothered to look at exactly _which_ classes he had, just the rooms. Upon retrieving it, he opened it up and looked back at the boy.

"Erm, French is my first class," Tom replied and made a move to put the piece of paper back into his pocket.

"Oh, don't put that away," said the boy, motioning for Tom to give him the paper instead. "Let me see what other classes you have." Tom complied and handed it to his large hand, well larger than his anyway. His blue eyes narrowed and he started biting the inside of his cheek as he read.

"Well, we only have one class together," he finally said, handing Tom back the paper. "French. I've been doing well in that class. You'll like the teacher, though, but sometimes she's a bit hard to understand. I'll show you to your other classes instead."

"Thanks," said Tom with a smile as he stuffed the paper back in his pocket, which the boy returned two-fold. "I'm Tom. Tom Fletcher."

"Ah'm Danny… Jones. Nice to meet ya." He put an emphasis on the Jones, like he forgot his last name. He smiled and turned around to close his locker. _Five minutes in school and I've already made a friend. I think I'm off to a good start_ Tom thought.

"Alright. Let's go," Danny said, who had already started walking. Tom snapped back to his senses and quickly followed.

The trip around the school to get to his classes wasn't as hard as Tom thought. All his classes were only a short way from each other, which he was thankful for. He hated walking up and down flights stairs after each class. The tour scraped off twenty minutes, but he didn't mind. At least he knew now where all of his classes were. Finally, Danny led him into their French class, and they were greeted by a tall woman with her graying hair tied up in a bun at the top of her head.

"'Oo do we 'ave 'ere?" she asked with a thick French accent.

"We have a _nouveau_ student, Madame LaCroix," answered Danny, sporting a wide smile. Madame LaCroix eyed him slyly.

"Wiz or wizout _un_ 'x'"? she asked. Danny brought his hand to scratch his chin and contemplated for a moment. Tom looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Erm… Without," Danny finally said. A smirk crept on her face, the top and bottom area of her lips wrinkling with the sudden movement.

"Final answer?" Danny cocked his eyebrows in deep thought, biting once again the inside of his cheek. He nodded his reply and the teacher's smirk blossomed into a full-blown smile.

"_Très bien_!" she said, clapping her hands together. Danny smiled proudly and whispered, "I told you I've been doing well" to Tom, who couldn't help but smile. Then, apparently acknowledging his appearance since Danny spoke, she turned to Tom and asked his name.

"Tom Fletcher. Nice to meet you," he replied and shook hands with her.

"Well, Tom, you've come at _un_ nice day. Today, everyone's going to take _un_ test." Tom smiled when he heard Danny say "aww, no!" behind him. At that moment the bell rang, and it didn't take long until the whole room was filled with students. He realized that Danny had already taken his seat (the last seat at the back of the room) when Madame LaCroix cleared her throat, which obviously indicated her demand for silence from her students. Not that she needed to, since everyone was quiet and had their eyes fixed on Tom.

"As you can see," said Madame LaCroix, walking over to Tom and placing a hand on his shoulder. "We 'ave _un_ new student. Introduce yourself, if you please." Tom looked at her, then to the whole class, an awkward smile creeping on his face. _Oh, no, Tom. Don't you dare mess this up. Remember, first impressions are severely important. If you mess this up, Tom, I swear I'll—_

"Erm… Hello," he said. Someone coughed and another cleared his throat, but no one said anything. He continued. "I'm Tom Fletcher and I've just moved here from Harrow." Still no one said anything. He felt extremely awkward standing in front of everybody, their eyes melting his very skin off. Suddenly his face grew hot, a bead of sweat sliding down his cheek. He had always hated being the center of attention because he was always afraid of people pointing out his flaws, and by the look of some of the students who were hiding their mouths behind their hands as they sniggered, they already have. Tom gave a curt little nod and excused himself to the empty seat next to Danny, who was smiling as wide as he possibly could.

"Nice job, mate," Tom heard him whisper, which uplifted his feelings a little. A few moments later, Madame LaCroix announced that they were having a surprise test, much to the dismay of the students. As she passed the sheets of paper out one by one, Tom heard the flutter of paper and looked down at his desk, on which a folded piece of paper lay. He looked up to see where Madame LaCroix was (she had just passed a paper to Danny and was walking back to the front), opened it, and read:

_That was amazing, how you presented yourself. Any other person would have fainted on the spot._

Tom turned to Danny (whose full attention was on the test paper), turned back to the paper, pulled out a pen from his bag, and wrote back.

_I thought I was going to. I could've sworn some of the lot sniggered behind their hands._

He folded it up, looked in Madame LaCroix's direction, extended a hand, and dropped the note on Danny's desk. Danny finished writing something before he picked it up, and when he did he flashed a smile at Tom.

_Ah, don't mind them. They're just stuck-up, heartless little bitches. I've had my fair share of sniggers from them whenever I answer Madame's questions._

_Well, I'm glad I wasn't the only one then._

_Hey, what are you doing after school? I thought maybe we could hang out or something like that._

_I'd love to. You can show me around the neighborhood while we're at it._

_Cool. See you after school. I'll meet you in the entrance. I think you know where—_

Madame LaCroix's shadow fell over Tom's desk and eventually over Tom himself, and the note he had in his hand was swiped clean off. She shook her head in disappointment.

"Since you are new to ze class, I will let you off with a warning. No notes in class," she told Tom, crumpling the note, and made to throw it away. Tom could see that some of his classmates were turned around to see the spectacle; some had their backs turned on him, but, as Tom concluded when he saw their shoulders shake up and down, they were no doubt laughing. He turned to Danny, who mouthed _bitches_ with a smile, slipped his hand into his bag, pulled out _The Catcher in the Rye_, and read for the remainder of the class.

When he flipped the book to page thirty, a bell rang, and in no time everyone shot up from their seats, pile their papers on Madame LaCroix's desk, and storm out of the room talking to one another. Tom and Danny were the last ones left, and Tom waited for his new friend to place his test paper at the top of the pile. Then they left and set off to their own classes.

His other classes weren't as interesting as his first, but everyone seemed friendlier and warmer to him. In a short time he accumulated a few friends. As his last class came to a close, he waved goodbye to Carla, one of his new friends, and set off to the double doors leading to the outside. Just like he said on the note, Danny was waiting at the entrance fiddling with his hair. He looked up and smiled when he saw Tom.

"Shall we?" said Danny as he opened one of the doors. Tom nodded and they both walked off into the warm sunshine.


	2. Chapter 2

"So…" started Danny as they walked down the sidewalk, his hands in his pocket, "Why'd you decide to move from Harrow? Heard it was a nice place." Tom forced a smile. It _was_a nice place, or at least the area he used to live in. There were barely any reports of thievery and break-ins and other crimes since he was a child. In addition, the people around the neighborhood were extremely nice; once or twice, a person knocked on their door with baskets of goods slung over their arms, welcoming them to the neighborhood. Everyone knew, cared for, and looked after everyone, but Tom never knew why, in the midst of all this affection, the love of his parents faded away.

"Oh…" Tom said, snapping back to reality. He always fell into a stupor whenever he remembered something. "My parents got divorced. Mum won my custody." They turned the corner.

"Sorry 'bout that, mate," said Danny, shooting him an apologetic look. "D'you miss him?"

"No, not really…" answered Tom with a somber tone, and they didn't speak for a while, but as Danny looked at him at the corners of his eyes, he knew he missed him after all. Danny contemplated for a moment, and then, as if attempting to make Tom feel better, asked him to go with him to the arcade they had just passed by.

Tom never really liked playing video games where there were many people around to watch him; he much preferred the confines of his room, but as he looked at Danny's smiling face, he couldn't say no. Danny let out a whoop, grabbed him by the arm, and rocketed off to the entrance, where he wasted no time in turning his change into shiny, yellow tokens. Tom looked around in the meantime. He could only spot a few people his age (all of them playing the shooting game at the corner of the place), and the rest were children.

Danny turned around with a handful of tokens and offered half of them to Tom, who hesitated at first, but accepted them after he shot him a pouty look. Danny's first choice was the dancing game in the middle of the arcade, the one where you had to step on the arrows pointing up, down, left, and right at the same moment as the ones that rose up in the screen. Tom had never played this game before, and he hated trying new things where there were people who could see him mess up, but after Danny's non-stop pleading, he finally accepted. He didn't know why but he could never say no to Danny. _Is it his smile? Maybe I'm afraid to make it go away. I don't know…_

Danny jumped onto the platform where the arrows where and motioned for Tom to come up with him. As Tom made his way, he slipped in a couple of tokens into the slot and assumed his position in the middle of the arrows. Tom let Danny pick the song, not caring which since he was convinced he would mess up anyway. Before he saw what song Danny had picked, the music had already started.

Tom struggled to keep up with the arrows (the song was on "easy" mode), much to Danny's entertainment, who was laughing as he, too, struggled. After a while, he started to get the hang of it, and even joined in the bellows of laughter exploding out of Danny's mouth with every mistake either of them made. As the song ended, Danny shut his eyes and crossed his fingers, apparently hoping to get a good score. Tom called him when the score appeared on the screen, and he let out a loud yell when he saw the multitude flashing numbers accompanied by a large "B". Everyone in the arcade turned to the source of the sound with puzzled looks on their faces, but neither of them seemed to care. They gave each other a high five (Danny let out yet another whoop) and jumped off the platform laughing.

"I've never played that game before," said Danny as they made their way out of the arcade and back into the sidewalk, "but I've always wanted to try. I couldn't let myself look like an idiot so I never did." Tom grinned and stuffed his hands in his pocket, which jingled oddly. _The tokens! We never used up all of them! Danny's just wasted his money…_

"We never used up the tokens!" Tom exclaimed, but Danny didn't seem to mind. He merely shrugged and smiled.

"Ahh… Keep 'em. Just in case we wanted to go later, yeah," said Danny, jingling the coins in his pocket. "I'm hungry. Wanna go eat something?" Tom felt his stomach growl at that moment, and he nodded in agreement.

"Yeah. I'm a bit hungry meself. But this time let me pay for it. You've already spent enough," Tom said as he scanned the area for somewhere to eat. The place was unfamiliar with him, however, and he turned to Danny, asking him where he preferred to eat. Danny looked around like Tom did but, unlike him, he pointed to a café on the other side of the road. Just above the entrance, Tom could read: "Memory Lane", and, after looking both ways, both of them sped off, Danny laughing the whole way.

Upon opening the door, a little bell tinkled, making some of the customers look up from whatever they were doing. The place wasn't full; a lot of tables were empty. Tom could tell that it seemed necessary for Danny to not burst out laughing, or else they'd be kicked out. They took a table next to the window and waited for one of the waitresses to come to their table.

"After we eat, you should come to my place. I could introduce you to Mum and play video games or something," said Tom. Danny's eyes widened a bit at the proposal.

"Really?" Danny asked in disbelief. "I've-I've never been invited over someone's place before." The reply struck Tom as being odd. Tom had been invited by and inviting friends over for as long as he could remember. To discover that Danny had never done those things made him feel a guilty sympathy for him. It was guilty because he knew he shouldn't feel that way.

"Why not?" Tom asked. "I bet you have loads of friends who'll be willing to if you just asked them." Danny's face flushed a bit and he looked down at the table, twiddling his thumb.

"To tell you the truth, I don't really have friends." His voice was soft and almost inaudible to Tom, but he had heard. He felt his heart drop. _No friends?_ This _Danny? Whatever could be the reason? He's loads of fun to be with and even though I've only known him for one day he never ceased to make me smile… Maybe this was the reason why he seemed excited to have met someone new…_

"Why not?" Tom blurted out, though he knew he shouldn't have. It was his personal matter and he had no right to dive into it.

"Rumors, y'know…" said Danny. "Nasty little buggers. I never really had friends because of them. It's not like I've never tried. Really, I have. But whenever I approach, people turn me away." Tom felt his heart drop even lower. He had forgotten how cruel teenagers could be. They both were silent for some time. Then, Tom had an idea that might make Danny feel a little better.

"I'm your friend," he managed to say, turning his gaze out the glass window. At that moment, the waitress, a large woman with graying hair, came to their table and grabbed the pen stuck behind her ear. She hovered the pen above the notepad.

"What'll you have, dearies?" she asked. Tom realized they never looked at the menu.

"Erm… I'll have what you're having, Danny," he said. Danny's face seemed rejuvenated as he told the waitress what he was going to have. She wrote it down on the notepad and said the order would come shortly.

"You mean tha', mate?" said Danny, a wide smile plastered on his face, after she left.

"Oh, sure. I'd never have invited you over in the first place if I wasn't," said Tom, smiling back. "Why don't we stop by your place first and you can ask your parents if they mind." Danny's smile faltered and he looked away.

"They wouldn't. They're dead." Tom's heart dropped lower, if that was possible, and he could feel his stomach drop as well. _Exactly how much misfortune does Danny have in his life?_

"I'm sorry." Tom wanted to leave it at that, but he would like to know more about the tragedy inside. He bit his tongue to stop him from asking the question. However, as if he were reading his mind, Danny told his story.

"I was fourteen at the time, yeah," Danny started. "It was nighttime, just after supper. I was out for a stroll. I came back and the house was on fire. I didn't know what happened at the time. I never knew. No one ever told me…" He was silent for a while. Tom waited patiently for him to continue, but he didn't. Tom understood. Soon after, the waitress came back and set a tray down on the table with their food. Danny had ordered a pepperoni pizza and two glasses of water. They both smiled and said thanks before she left. Neither touched the pizza for a while.

Danny clapped his hands together with a smile, making Tom jump. Tom eyed him with curiosity.

"The past is the past," Danny said simply, and Tom left it at that. "Let's eat, yeah?" Tom nodded with a smile and both of them grabbed a slice of the pizza at the same time. During their meal, they learned a lot about each other; Danny found out that Tom was a fat kid up until his seventh year in school when he underwent a serious diet regime and Tom found out that Danny was supposed to be a girl whose name would have been "Danielle". The conversation seemed to cheer Danny up. After taking one last bite of his pizza, Danny burped loudly, making Tom laugh softly as to not disturb the others. Amidst the laughter, however, there was still one thing that itched in Tom's mind. _I wonder what he does for work to support himself…_, but he decided not to ask in fear of ruining the moment.

They left afterwards and headed for Tom's place, which was just around the corner from the café. Tom slipped his key in the keyhole, turned it, heard the reassuring click, and let himself in, followed by Danny. His house wasn't as big as the one he had back in Harrow, but it was quite spacious. It had two bathrooms and three rooms upstairs: one for his mother, one for him, and an empty one for guests. Downstairs had the kitchen, another bathroom, the living room, and the dining room.

Tom threw his and Danny's bags on the sofa and headed for the kitchen, the place where his mother spends most of her time when she wasn't working. And sure enough, she _was_in the kitchen. She had her back on them, but from an angle Tom could see that she was holding a bowl with her left hand and stirring with the right. A cookbook was propped open on the countertop in her direction. As soon as she heard their footsteps, she turned around and smiled when her gaze fell upon Danny.

"Oh! Hello, dear. Welcome home. Who do you have there?" she said, placing the bowl on the countertop next to the cookbook. Mrs. Fletcher was a tall and slim woman, a bit taller than Tom, with hair the same shade of blonde as her son.

"This, is Danny," Tom replied. Mrs. Fletcher wiped her hands on her apron and extended one of them, which Danny happily received with his one of his own. "What are you making?" She laughed and turned back to whatever she was mixing.

"Oh, erm… I'm trying to make mashed potatoes. I've tried about a hundred times. I never seem to pay enough attention, though. At the end, everything's all mushy and slushy," she explained and began stirring the contents of the bowl. Danny laughed softly, making her smile.

"You're just a happy little feller, aren't ya?" she said, keeping close attention to the potatoes. Danny grinned.

"We're just going upstairs to play some video games," said Tom, pushing Danny upstairs, who waved goodbye.

"Have fun!" said Mrs. Fletcher and turned back to her cookbook. Tom smiled when he heard her say under her breath, "what am I doing wrong?"

Tom pushed the door to his room open and let Danny inside first. His room wasn't spectacular. There were posters of The Beatles on the wall right above his bed. A television set was propped on a small drawer, which contained his video game consoles and his games. His closet had a hook on which a full-size mirror hung.

Danny sat on his bed, absorbing everything in, as Tom walked over to the television set and pressed the "power" button. After that, they played games after games, Tom beating Danny on every single one, which Danny didn't seem to mind. All throughout the game, they both laughed at each other when the one made a mistake, tried to make each other lose, and just all around had a great time.

But the fun had to end when Danny looked at his watch and declared he had to go. Tom accepted, turned off the telly, and both slipped on their way downstairs, making them bellow in laughter. Tom waved goodbye, as did Mrs. Fletcher, which Danny returned before walking out of the door and closing it lightly behind him. Out the window, Tom could see him walking down the sidewalk, hands in his pocket, whistling to himself. Tom smiled, closed the curtains, and walked into the kitchen to help his mother make their dinner.


	3. Chapter 3

The sunlight slipped through the tiniest crack between the curtains and flashed its splendor over Tom's eyelids, irritating them. He turned over on his side to avoid the sudden intrusion, and he opened his eyes. His gaze immediately fell on the pile of gold tokens on the bedside table, and the past week that he and Danny shared together flashed through his mind. He dwelled on it for some time.

Now that Tom thought about it, he had developed a strong bond with Danny. Friendship for him usually took a long time back in Harrow, as he could never seem to trust anyone. Some of his "friends" always talked about him behind his back, he finally discovered after somebody had told him, calling him fat and ugly and all of those degrading words children label to those whom they didn't like. To be quite honest, Tom was glad he was out of Harrow. Yes, the neighbors were nice and welcoming, but at the same time the children were monstrously cruel.

Danny, on the other hand, was completely different. The moment he turned around smiling to help him find his classes was when it clicked for Tom. That was when he knew he'd found a friend. A real friend. He didn't know how he knew, but what he _did_ know was that there was something about Danny, something that was twice as warm and welcoming as the neighbors back in Harrow. _Is it his smile?_ he asked himself again as he lifted a hand to brush his hair away from his face to get a better view of the tokens. _What_ is _it about him that makes me feel like I'm… wanted?_ He closed his eyes and desperately tried to find the answer. What ran through his mind, however, were images of Danny smiling and laughing, involuntarily making Tom form a smile. _It_ is _his smile…_

He opened his eyes and once again gazed at the gleaming tokens, for the sunlight had moved past him and settled on the bedside table. Moving along, though, his eyes fell on the digital clock right next to the pile. His eyes widened at the sight before him: 7:58 flashing in red against the black background. _Late! Late! Laaaaaaaaaate! Class starts in twenty-two minutes!_

He immediately jumped off his bed, ripped off his pajamas on the way to the bathroom, took a quick shower, brushed his teeth while he picked his clothes, slipped them on, looked at himself in the mirror, fixed his hair, grabbed his bag from the rack near the door, sped downstairs, and closed the door behind him. He looked at his watch. Getting ready burned off fifteen minutes. He only had seven minutes to get to school. Taking a deep breath, he rocketed off along the sidewalk.

He approached the threshold of the school with two minutes to spare, and he pushed the double doors open. The hall was already bustling with activity; masses of students and teachers criss-crossed each other, some contorting this way and that way to avoid being hit.

He slipped through the tiny crevices that separated groups, cursing to himself after getting bumped about a hundred times. _Fucking student traffic, move!_ He started pushing people aside to make room for him to go through; some yelled "hey, what's the big idea?" and "what the fuck's your problem?" He ignored every single remark and reached his class with a minute to spare.

He ambled over next to Danny, who was keeping himself occupied by fiddling with a lock of his hair, and collapsed on his desk. Danny stopped what he was doing and reached a hand to shake Tom's shoulder, who groaned in response.

"What's wrong, mate?" said Danny, a wide grin appearing on his face. "You look like you've been in a marathon or something." At that moment, the bell rang, and students flooded the room like a leak in a dam, taking their mixed conversations with them, creating a sea of gibberish noise that plucked every nerve in Tom's body. He lifted his head up and wiped the cold sweat on his forehead with his sleeve. Madame LaCroix entered the room with a stack of papers clutched tightly in her hands and the noise slowly died down. When everyone was silent, she isolated half of the papers and set the rest on her desk.

"Ze finals. You 'ave ze whole class to do zis. Zis counts for half of your overall grade in zis class, so write down your answers correctly. I will _not _accept misspellings." After her speech, she proceeded to pass the papers out. Upon receiving his, Tom wasted no time answering the questions. He had studied the day before and he sighed with relief when he discovered that the questions were easy. He jotted down answer after answer with quick succession, carefully placing the right accent marks over the letters that needed them. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Danny staring at him, mouth agape, and it made him smile. Twenty minutes later, he had finished all three pages of the test and flipped it face down on his desk. He turned to Danny, who was twirling his pen with his fingers, his gaze fixed on the paper, concentrating hard. He pulled out _The Catcher in the Rye_, opened it to the page indicated by his bookmark, which was a little strip of paper with "The Beatles" scribbled all over, and continued reading where he left off.

It took Danny the whole class to finish his test, and as he recited softly under his breath the word "_fourchette_," the bell rang, causing the students to jump out of their seats, slam their papers on Madame's desk, and walk out of the room. To Tom's surprise, the first one out of the room was Danny. This struck him as odd because he and Danny usually left last. Curious about his destination, Tom quickly followed him.

Peeking around a corner, he saw Danny rounded on by Cole and his lackeys, Jack and Jimmy, his back against the bathroom door. Cole was talking to him, but Tom couldn't hear what he were saying. Cole was easily much taller and larger than Danny, being the captain of the rugby team, with a buzz cut and wild green eyes. Jack was a centimeter taller than Danny, and was usually Cole's backup muscle. Jimmy was the shortest, his head only reaching the base of Jack's neck, and was usually the comic relief of the group—well, to Cole anyway.

Tom let out a soft gasp when Cole snatched Danny's arm and began yelling at him. Jack pushed the bathroom door open and stood aside just in time to avoid collision with Danny as Cole threw him inside. All three slipped inside and slammed the door shut. Tom left his hiding spot and ran to the bathroom door. He grabbed the cold knob and tried to turn it.

"Shit," he said under his breath when it didn't budge. "It's locked." He pressed his ear against the door, wincing as his skin touched the cold surface. His eyes widened when he heard Cole yelling, Jack and Jimmy laughing, and Danny crying in pain. He stepped backward and raised his fists, ready to bang on the door, but before they could make contact, he heard Carla's voice behind him.

"Well, it's obviously locked, isn't it?" she said matter-of-factly, flipping her red hair. "Come on! I've been looking everywhere for you! We have to present right now and I'm not doing it alone." She grabbed Tom's arm and dragged him to their class, ignoring his protests. "You can go to the bathroom later! Now, stop fussing and let's go!"

As they entered the classroom, Tom could see that their poster was already propped up against the board. For their final, the class had to congregate into groups of two and talk about the geography of a country. Carla didn't hesitate to pair up with him and they both decided to do the geography of China, as Tom had always wanted to go there.

He fixed his gaze out the door, but after Carla snapped at him quietly, he turned his eyes to the class.

"Hello, everyone," Carla said once the class had quieted down. "We're doing a report on China." And for the next fifteen minutes she recited what she'd written down on the piece of paper in her hands, occasionally turning to Tom, who nodded and smiled even though he had no idea what was happening. All he could think about was Danny.

_Why did they pick on Danny? Out of all the people, they had to pick on him. Poor Danny. He must be so scared right now… I have to do something. Danny needs me and I have to do something. I have to do something now. Right now. Come on, Tom, you have to do something! _Falling out of his stupor, he declared he had to go to the bathroom and ran out of the room, ignoring Carla's cries ("What do you think you're doing! Don't leave me alone here!")

He reached the bathroom door in no time and he didn't hesitate to grab the knob and turned it forcefully. To his surprise, there was a soft _click _and the door swung open. He closed the door behind him, scanned the area, and widened his eyes at the sight before him. Danny was sitting on the floor, his back resting against the back wall, head buried in his arms, and hugging his knees. Tom could see bruises and red hand marks all over his arms and his hair was disheveled. Pounds were scattered on the floor around him, some already absorbing the wetness that came from God knows what.

Tom quickly darted to Danny's side and laid a hand on his knee. Danny looked up and, to Tom's horror, revealed more bruises on his cheeks and around his eyes. He didn't seem to be in pain, though, as he had a nonchalant expression.

"What happened?" Tom blurted out, fixing Danny's hair. He smiled widely.

"Oh, hello Tom," he said, his smile never faltering as always.

"What are you talking about? Tell me what happened," Tom pressed on, befuddled by his reply. Danny furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"What?" he asked, as he lifted his arms to look at them, still smiling. "This? Oh, nothing really. Cole's just broken up with his gal and I guess he decided to take it out on me since I wanted to use the loo." Tom was getting frustrated with him.

"Nothing?" he snapped, grabbing a part of Danny's arm that wasn't bruised and waving it in the air. "_This_ is nothing? Danny, what the hell's wrong with you? And why are you smiling?" Danny's face relaxed and his smile disappeared as he looked into Tom's eyes. He didn't answer.

"I'll just ask again later," Tom said, releasing Danny's arm. "Can you get up? Your bruises need attending to." Danny tried to rise from the floor, but was unsuccessful, and he flopped on to Tom's arms instead.

"I can't. My legs hurt." _Did they kick him too? Bastards..._ He slid his arm around Danny's waist (Danny wrapped his arms around his shoulders for support), and lifted him up with immense effort. He weighed more than Tom himself, and it took a good two minutes to get him on his feet. Immediately afterwards they made their way out the school, walking as slowly as possible as to not put pressure on Danny's legs.

They arrived at Danny's house after thirty minutes of walking, and after he set Danny on his bed, he flopped down next to him, burying his face in a pillow. Danny let out a loud laugh and rubbed Tom's back.

"Stop it," Tom demanded, huffing loudly, extremely tired from carrying Danny. "You weigh a thousand pounds!" Danny scratched his head and laughed even more. Tom groaned when he realized that his job wasn't done yet. He lifted his head from the pillow.

"Where's your refrigerator?" he asked, sliding out of the bed and on his feet. "Your bruises need ice."

"In the kitchen," Danny said simply with a giggle, his smile as strong as ever. Tom slipped out of the room, grabbed a kitchen towel, stuffed a few ice cubes in a depression he made with his fingers, twisted it close, and walked back into the room. Danny was tracing the bruises on his arms lightly with his finger. Tom jumped on the bed and replaced Danny's finger with the ice he held in his hand, and Danny winced in pain.

He did this for about an hour, spending at least ten minutes on each bruise until the spot went numb. Afterwards, they spent their time watching comedy shows, laughing aloud at the people cracking unfunny jokes and getting faces full of pie.

As night replaced the light outside the windows, Tom looked over at Danny, whose eyes were closed and his fist pressed ever so lightly against his lips. Tom had never seen anything more serene and innocent in his life. He dared not disturb the perfection lying next to him, but he couldn't help himself. He ran a hand along Danny's cheek, avoiding the bruises along the way. The sudden stimulation made Danny smile in his sleep, and in turn made Tom smile.

_What is this I'm feeling toward Danny? It's more than friendship, I can tell… No, I shouldn't think these things. He's a guy for Christ's sake. And plus, I have Giovanna…_ The last thought made him refrain his touch on Danny's cheek. He had completely forgotten he had left behind his girlfriend back in Harrow. _What a lousy boyfriend I am…_ he thought as he tore his gaze away from Danny and settle it out the window. _First I forget I had a girlfriend, then I develop feelings for Danny, my best mate. No, it's not true. It's only friendship. That's all…_

He glanced at his watch. _It's late. I should go now._ He slowly and carefully left the bed and closed the door behind him. Unbeknownst to him, Danny had his eyes slightly open the whole time, and a wide smile was appearing on his face, wider than he's ever shown Tom.


	4. Chapter 4

Tom arrived to school much earlier the next day.

He barely had any sleep the night before—four or five hours at the most, he reckoned. Exactly _why_ he couldn't sleep still burned in his head, even as he walked along the hallways whistling to himself, his hands buried in his pockets. He wondered why he touched Danny's face. It wasn't at all appropriate during their current situation.

_I couldn't help it_ he told himself as he turned a corner. He shook his head. _I never should have done that… What if Danny was actually awake when that happened? Oh, what he'll think of me…_ He walked up the stairs, arching his back a little for balance. He jumped the last step and stood on the landing for a while. _I might have already lost my best mate…_ He turned back around and descended the steps, now humming the same song he was whistling a moment ago. _But I can't just ignore my feelings… I know this feeling. It's the exact same feeling I felt for Giovanna when we started going out…_

He trotted along, tapping his feet here and there. He was glad no one was around, or else one might think he was a lunatic. _But why am I feeling these feelings for Danny?_ And then, out of nowhere, he began singing softly.

"_Close your eyes and I'll kiss you… Tomorrow I'll miss you…_" He kicked a crumpled can of soda, landing a few feet before him. He tried to think of Giovanna.

"_Remember I'll always be true… And then while I'm away, I'll write home every day…_ He picked up the can as he passed it by and headed for the nearest trash can. Last he saw her, she had died her hair brown. The same shade as Danny's—_No! I'm supposed to be thinking about Giovanna!_

"_And I'll send all my loving to you…_" He dropped the can into the trash can, listening first for the soft _clunk_ it made as it made contact with the other contents inside before turning back to his song. He kept on walking. Her teeth were perfectly aligned and pearly white. Just like Danny's, although his were better—_Stop it!_

"_I'll pretend that I'm kissing the lips I am missing…_" He turned a corner and ran a hand along the rows of lockers to his left. She had the softest skin, and he could remember touching it and caressing it. Danny's, however, was much more different. His was as delicate as a butterfly's wings and as soft as a baby's—_Stop it right now! Giovanna… Giovanna… Giovanna…_

"_And I hope that my dreams will come true…_" He smiled as a teacher passed him by, apparently just coming in for work. The teacher smiled back with a nod and continued on his way.

"_And then while I'm away, I'll write home every day…_" He stopped at his locker and turned to open it. He rummaged through its contents, pushing books aside and stacking them according to his liking. _Giovanna… Giovanny… Gianny… Ganny… Danny… Danny…_ He sighed in frustration.

"_And I'll send all my loving to you…_" He picked up his blue French book from the bottom of the pile, opened it, and began flipping through the pages, looking for a loose sheet of paper.

"_All my loving I will send to you… All my loving, darling I'll be true…_" He kept on flipping the pages. _What is wrong with me…_

"_Close your eyes and I'll kiss you… Tomorrow I'll miss you…_" He finally found the paper and scanned it. It was the French homework that was assigned the day before yesterday. He had forgotten to take it out of his book. Danny had never forgotten his homework the whole time Tom had been here. _Wonder what's his secret…_

"_Remember I'll always be true… And then while I'm away, I'll write home every day…_" He replaced the book inside his locker, closed it, folded the paper, stuck it in his pocket, and went on with his stroll.

"_And I'll send all my loving to you…_" He turned right at another corner and saw Danny writing in a small book, his back to his closed locker door, a dreamy smile on his face. He stopped in the middle of the hall for a moment, but then continued on quickly afterwards.

"_All my loving I will send to you… All my loving, darling I'll be true…_ He was closer to Danny now, and he could see that some of his bruises have faded, though the remnants still lingered.

"_All my loving, all my loving… Oooh…_" Danny looked up from writing, closed the book, and stuffed it in his bag resting against his left leg. Tom gave him a smile and sang the last lyric under his breath.

"_All my loving I will send to you…_" The moment he sang the line, Danny waved at him. Tom blushed slightly.

"I see you're better," Tom said, stopping about two feet from Danny, who raised his arms to look at them.

"Yeah," he replied, dropping his arms and placing them in his pocket. "Took me a while to sleep though. The bruises hurt like hell." And with that he laughed, and so did Tom. "Thanks for being there for me, mate. It might've took me a million years just to go home all by myself, yeah. But you didn't have to stay, though. I could've taken care of the bruises meself." Tom cleared his throat and flashed an embarrassed smile.

"Aw, I couldn't do that," he said. "It's this thing I have that forces me to take care of people when I know are unable to. Got it from my mum." They were both silent for a while, Tom feeling extremely awkward. Danny, though, seemed anxious to break the silence.

"Listen, mate," he said. "You want to go to the theater later? There's this new comedy I really want to watch. But it'd be no fun if I went all by meself." Tom thought about it. _Maybe the movie will take my mind off these feelings for a while…_

"Sure," Tom replied. "No problem." Danny grinned and they walked along the halls Tom had just walked moments ago.


	5. Chapter 5

The moment Tom had been looking forward to the whole day finally came when everyone shot up from their seats and escaped from the room, ready to start the weekend. Throughout all his classes, he tried not to think of Danny, but not thinking of him _naturally _made Tom think about him. He tried to drown them in thoughts of Giovanna instead.

He tried to remember the qualities that made him fall for her in the first place. Her hair was originally brown, lighter than Danny's were, perfectly matching her eyes, which were the same shade, but she'd dyed it blonde a year into their relationship. When Tom said he didn't like it, she immediately dyed it back to brown, slightly darker than it originally was. She had flawless skin, and Tom could remember one particular moment when they sat on his couch, her legs positioned comfortably on his thighs, watching a movie and drowning themselves in popcorn and bottled sodas. The entire time, he was caressing them lightly, running his hand back and forth along her tanned skin, watching the faint smile on her face as her eyes danced with the light from the television set.

During his last class, when he thought he'd finally escaped this thoughts about Danny, the night before flashed in the back of his mind, where he caressed his cheek the same way he caressed Gio.

He shook his head and doodled _Giovanna _all over his paper.

She had a warm smile, the kind smile that made him feel happy inside when he was having a bad day. Danny had a warm smile, too, but not the kind that _she_had. His was warmer, enveloping his skin like a soft, thick coat, and it did not only make Tom feel happy inside, but also outside. Whenever Danny smiled at him, he could never help but smile back.

He looked at the paper he was doodling on and sighed in frustration when the _Giovanna_'s were covered with a spattering of _Danny_'s. He crumpled it up with a sigh and set in on the corner of his desk. His last resort was to listen to the teacher like he's supposed to, who was teaching his class how to mix chemicals together in a droning voice, not much different from the low humming that came from Tom's refrigerator, never failing to make him sleepy.

He rested his chin on his hand and tried to think of Giovanna's lips. They were perfect. They were as soft as the rest of her skin, but they were a special kind of soft. Tom couldn't put his finger on it, but he loved to press his lips against them whenever he was offered the chance.

"I wonder what _his _lips feel like…" he drifted off under his breath. This question woke him up. He sat bolt upright and smacked himself across the cheek, the area immediately turning red. The whole class turned to look at him and so did the teacher.

"Was I boring you, Mr. Fletcher?" he asked in the same droning, monotone voice. Some of the students giggled. Tom quickly tried to think of an excuse.

"No, sir. There was a bug on my cheek," he finally said with an embarrassed smile, wiping the sticky remnants of the imaginary bug on his knee. The teacher merely looked at him, blinking slowly, and went back to teaching the next moment.

He was one of the last ones to leave the room, waving goodbye to Carla as she left. He picked up the crumpled ball of paper, strode over to the trash bin near the door, zigzagging his way around the stragglers. He dropped the ball and made his way out of the room.

Just like planned, Danny was waiting on the left side of the double doors, fiddling with a lock of his hair, the way he was fiddling that first time they hung out with each other. He smiled at Tom as he approached, and the next moment they pushed the doors open and made their way to the theaters.

::

Getting there was no easy feat, and Tom swore to himself he wouldn't go back to see a movie anytime soon. It took them thirty minutes to arrive; Tom was nearly run over twice when they crossed the street without looking, much to Danny's amusement.

They decided on who would pay for what (Danny would pay for the tickets and Tom would pay for the snacks) and Danny ran up to the lady behind the glass window. Several seconds later, Danny came back, his enthusiasm slightly diminished by, as Tom discovered as he bought their snacks, the lack of tickets for the movie Danny wanted to see. Instead, he opted for a romance movie ("it's the most interesting out of all the choices" he said) and they made their way to the designated theater room, a large bucket of popcorn in Tom's hands and two bottles of soda in Danny's.

Tom shouldered the door open and discovered that it was completely empty. _Great…_ thought Tom as they settled in their seats. _All the people here will_ definitely _keep my mind off Danny._

Then, they were surrounded by darkness, signaling the start of the movie.

The movie _was _interesting, he had to admit, but he couldn't keep his full attention to it because he was thinking about Danny. From what he could make out of the movie so far, the girl was running away and the guy, her love interest, who was chasing after her. Then she slapped him after he tried to kiss her. He drifted off afterwards.

_I have to know what he feels about me. Maybe then these thoughts would stop._ He looked discreetly at Danny from the corners of his eyes, whose attention was fixed on the movie. _Maybe if I pretend to fall asleep…_

He sighed softly and slowly placed his head on his shoulder. Danny gave a little jump as he felt the sudden pressure, but made no move to wake him up. Instead, he reached his arm around Tom's shoulder and pulled him closer, and Tom could feel his heartbeat quicken. _It's working, _Tom thought, his eyes glazing over the screen as the scenes progressed.

To his surprise, though he didn't make any sudden movements to indicate it, Danny began to brush Tom's hair with his fingers and eat popcorn with the other. Then, without thinking about it, he buried his head deeper into the crook on Danny's neck, and he gave a slight moan, like the one that Giovanna made when she slept on his shoulder one time. He felt his face getting hotter with every stroke on his head. He was glad nobody was there to see him cuddling against another boy, but right now he didn't care. He was actually _enjoying _it. He was enjoying the feeling of Danny's hands caressing his hair, the warmth that emanated from his body. This warmth, however, didn't neutralize the cold that the room provided, and he shivered slightly.

Apparently sensing the disturbance, Danny slid his hand from Tom's hair and ended back on his shoulder, and he pulled him closer. Tom smiled at his consideration. _He_ does _feel something for me… And I think _I _feel something for him…_Tom snuggled closer, as if he wanted to merge with Danny. At that moment, he realized something that he felt in his heart truly and sincerely. Something he felt with a passion as he laid there, his head resting on Danny's shoulder and Danny pulling him as close to him as he possibly could. The protagonist confiding with her best friend conveyed Tom's feelings in words that he wanted to tell Danny right there and then.

"I think I love him…" she said softly, wiping a tear from her cheek. But what happened next made the corners of Tom's lips curl into a smile.

"I think he loves you, too," said her friend, and she reached up and pulled her into a hug.

_I have to do something… I can't deny these feelings any longer… It's stronger than anything I've ever felt… Even for Gio… _He lifted his head up from Danny's shoulder and looked at his face, whose eyes were intently looking back at his. Then, out of nowhere, Tom leaned in to kiss his cheek, slowly moving to the lips he had been wondering about earlier in the day. They were softer than Giovanna's, if that was even possible, but warmer and smoother and all of those good things. He was right after all. He felt a jolt of electricity run through his whole body, which intensified tenfold when Danny kissed him back.

Tom wanted it to last forever, to keep their lips locked like this for all eternity, their tongues exploring the inside of each other's mouths, fighting for domination, tasting the butter that came from the popcorn and the contrast that the kernels provided. He felt his heart beating faster than it's ever beaten before, and he loved every second of it.

A moment later, to both of their disappointment, Tom had to come up for air. He looked at Danny, who smiled back, panting heavily.

"Tom! What did we just do?" he said between the intervals of his breath. Tom laughed softly in return and went in for another one, wrapping his arms around Danny's neck. The abrupt charge forced Danny on the floor between their seats and the seats below.

"Oh! Sorry!" Tom apologized, breaking off the kiss.

"Don't worry about it," said Danny, reaching up his hands behind Tom's head, and he pulled him back into his lips.

They lay there on the floor for the remainder of the movie, sharing a kiss that was long overdue. Their legs intertwined and their fingers interlocked. _Finally! I don't have to hide it anymore! Danny's finally mine! Boy, am I glad we didn't see that comedy!_

They had to stop, however, when they heard the theater door open. They quickly shot up, straightened their clothes, which wrinkled under Tom's weight, and wiped their respective mouths. The people that had just entered were Carla and her boyfriend, David, and she eyed the two boys curiously.

"Tom?" she said, turning her head sideways to make out Tom's face. "You're watching a chick flick? With Danny Jones?" Tom gave an embarrassed smile and tried to explain.

"The movie we wanted was sold out," said Tom, panting softly. "So we had to settle for this." Carla squinted her eyes and bit the inside of her cheek.

"Mm-hm…" she hummed suspiciously. Tom felt his face flush in humiliation. _Oh, God! She knows! She saw everything! _They looked at each other for a while, and the silence was heavily pressing on Tom's rampantly beating heart. He even swore he felt Danny tensing up behind him.

"Is the movie any good?" she asked finally, and Tom let out a sigh of relief. He had forgotten that Carla wasn't the brightest bulb around. _Dodged a bullet there, Tom _he thought to himself before answering.

"Oh, yeah," he said with a smile. As he and Danny made their way out, he passed Carla by. Stopping, he told her, "Worth every cent."

::

They decided to go to Tom's place after they left. Tom yelled for his mother as Danny made himself comfortable on the sofa, and when no answer came, he looked around for a note or something to indicate her lack of presence. His gaze fell on a piece of paper stuck to the refrigerator door by a Mickey Mouse magnet. He ambled over to it, snatched the paper, and read it:

_Sorry, dear. There's an emergency book signing. Who knew my novel would turn out to be a hit? Anyway, there's pizza on the table, just heat it up, and if Danny wants to stay over to keep you company, that's fine with me. Love from Mum._

This could not have been a better timing for Tom, who immediately locked the door and pounced on Danny, locking their lips together once more. _I get Danny all to myself! Sweet victory! _They continued their kiss in Tom's bedroom, where they made themselves cozy under the covers, neither bothering to take their shoes off.

Tom had never felt so much exhilaration in his life. The realization of Danny being his filled his heart with so much happiness he felt the pressure inside might make it explode.

They refrained from kissing after an hour, and they decided to just lay there on the bed, Tom resting his head on Danny's chest, his finger tracing a circle along the contours of Danny's abdomen, his blonde hair caressed by Danny's hands just like in the theaters. They had already discarded their shoes on either side of the bed.

"Danny?" said Tom softly as he traced the hundredth revolution.

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Why did you keep on smiling that day you got beat up in the bathroom?" Danny didn't answer at once, and Tom, now tracing other geometric shapes, was patient enough to wait.

"Smiling is all I have, you know?" he finally answered with a sigh. "It's all I ever had to hide behind since my parents died. Their death sparked rumors that _I've _killed them myself, and that was why people turned me away. I knew crying wouldn't do anything. You know I don't have friends. Crying about something stupid like getting beat up means absolutely nothing to me. I only shed my tears if something happens to those I care about. Their funeral was the last time I ever cried." Tom's heart ached listening to Danny, who never ceased caressing his hair. Now he understood why he always had to put up a mask.

"Would you cry if something happened to me?" asked Tom, sliding over to level his gaze with Danny's. He rested his head on Danny's shoulder, who resumed petting his hair.

"Like a baby," replied Danny, flashing a smile at Tom, who smiled back. They kissed each other one last time and Tom turned off the lamp on the bedside table, the only source of light his room had.

Tom slid his arm around Danny's waist, and he felt Danny's arm come up around his shoulder.

And they fell asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Tom's eyes shot open as he felt something brush against his arm. At first, he had no idea what had just happened, and he raised his head slightly to look around for the source of the movement. Sighing contentedly, he found himself in Danny's arms, both clad only in their undergarments and socks, and carefully placed his head back down on his chest, his cheek mere centimeters from a rosy bud, listening to his steady heartbeat, his head rising up and down as Danny breathed.

He quickly groped around in his memories why they had taken their clothes off in the first place. In what he could remember, it had gotten warmer in the middle of the night, and, though he was still half-asleep, he saw, and felt, Danny taking off Tom's shirt and then his own, apparently sensing the change in the temperature. Tom smiled at this little act of consideration.

The temperature changed yet again, however, and the cold came back after an hour. He was delighted to be in Danny's arms, their heat rebounding off each other, much like penguins. He gave a soft laugh. Penguins. He had read about their ways to get warm, huddling together to exchange heat during the harsh winter storms they had to endure, and it was the closest comparison he had at the moment.

Danny shifted slightly, tightening his embrace on Tom, who had pulled the blanket up around their shoulders for more warmth. He looked at Danny's face and thought about all the things that had happened yesterday.

It all happened so fast, Tom thought as he played with Danny's curly brown hair. One moment he was pretending to be asleep, and the next second he attacked Danny's mouth. He could remember the feeling clearly in his mind and even more in his heart. He couldn't think of words to describe it, and as he relived the kiss over and over again in the back of his head, he let out a shiver of delight.

He wondered if that was Danny's first time kissing anyone. He said himself that he hadn't got any friends before Tom came along. _Well, at least I'm his first…_

Danny's eyes slowly opened, and a smile appeared on his face when the newly exposed blue orbs fell on Tom.

"Hey there, sleepyhead," Tom said playfully, giving him a little peck on the lips.

"What time is it?" Danny asked, raising his arm to look at his watch. But it wasn't there. He laughed softly as he recalled taking it off and throwing it somewhere in the corner before they went to sleep. Tom turned around and looked at the digital clock next to the pile of tokens.

"It's only seven," he said, turning back. "Why, you have somewhere to get to?" He gave Danny a sly smile.

"No," Danny replied, laughing a bit. "I just want to know if your mum arrived yet. I'd hate for her to see us like this before we tell her about us." Tom pondered his words for a moment, withdrawing his gaze from Danny's eyes and moving it to the ceiling.

Mrs. Fletcher was open-minded enough, having her fair share of gay friends, and she wouldn't freak out if she found out that her little Tomkins was gay. He trusted her enough that she would accept him for what he really was. Mr. Fletcher, on the other hand, was just the exact opposite.

One day, he remembered, just after church, the Fletchers passed two men kissing on a bench near the local park to get to their car, and Tom could remember his dad's face and comment vividly in his mind. Mr. Fletcher wrinkled his nose, as if smelling something horribly foul, in complete disgust and scoffed loudly when they were out of earshot.

"Fucking faggots. They should burn in hell, the lot of them," he said, and his mum looked reproachfully at her husband, which he ignored. Tom stayed silent the whole time, keeping his attention to his new shoes.

Now that he thought about it, he was always looking at his new shoes before the divorce. He remembered staying up in the middle of the night every night, cleaning it in the bathroom, wiping away stains that seemed visible only to him. He wondered where it went…

Tom was actually glad they were divorced, going back to thinking about his parents. If his father saw his only son in another man's arms—Tom didn't dare to imagine. He looked back at Danny and opened his mouth to say something, but his throat constricted when another thought occurred to him, something that made him realize, in a split second, the severe risks that went with his actions the day before.

He still had a girlfriend.

Yes, Mrs. Fletcher was open-minded enough, but she could never condone cheating. And him being with Danny while he was still in a relationship with Giovanna, he thought, was indeed cheating. What's worse, he never told Danny about Giovanna, and as his best mate, Danny had the right to know. If he found out, he'd hate Tom's guts forever for ever snogging him. He closed his mouth shut and slowly turned pink. Danny furrowed his eyebrows in worry.

"What's wrong?" Tom's heart was racing fast. "Don't you want your mum to know about us?" Tom couldn't bring himself to look at Danny as he answered, for everything he was about to say were complete lies.

"Of course I do. But I think we need to put off telling her because it may come as a bit of a shock," said Tom, masking his worry with a smile, and he quickly tried to change the subject. "Speaking of which, where is she? Hang on, I'll go have a look downstairs." Danny nodded and untangled his arms around Tom's waist.

Tom jumped off the bed, relieved to find an excuse to leave the room, and made his way downstairs.

"Mum? Are you back yet?" he said, stopping halfway on the stairs, looking around behind the bars of the banister. When no one answered, he dragged his feet back to his room and slipped back into Danny's embrace.

"Wonder where she is…" he trailed off as he reached a hand to grab the telephone resting on top of the digital clock. He dialed his mother's cellular phone and waited, Danny resting his head on the crook of Tom's neck.

"_Oh! Tom, I'm glad you called!_" his mother said when the ringing stopped. "_I wanted to call, but I didn't want to wake you up._"

"You're still at the book signing?"

"_Yeah. I had two other ones immediately after and I'm really tired. I've probably downed five cups of coffee already._"

"Well, that's your fault for writing such a great book," said Tom with a laugh. "When are you coming home?"

"_I have one more after this and I'm done. I'll probably be home later in the afternoon. But if it's any consolation, someone's coming to visit during the break._"

"Who is it?" asked Tom with enthusiasm.

"_You'll just have to wait and see! "The person" is coming on the first day of the break so I want you to look your best. Oh, I have to go now! See you later, dear!_"

Tom pressed the "off" button, set the phone back down on the clock, and turned to Danny.

"What'd she say?" he asked with a smile.

"Someone's coming over during the break," Tom replied. "I just don't know who, though." They both were silent for a while, and Tom began to dwell on his thoughts once again. Determined to break the silence, Danny playfully slapped Tom's stomach and rubbed it.

"I refuse to believe you used to be fat," he said, his hands sliding over to his hips. "You're so fit!" Tom laughed as he felt him touch his tickle spot, grabbed Danny's hands, and laced them with kisses. And once again they locked their lips together, Tom sliding on top of Danny, both rubbing their legs against each other, their hands exploring each other's bodies, not paying any mind where they happened to end up. Danny chuckled as Tom rested his hand "over there," but he didn't make a move to push it away, only battling Tom's tongue with his more fiercely.

As they kissed, Tom formulated a plan in his head.

He would call Giovanna up later and tell her he's found someone else. Easy enough. He knows Giovanna. She'll understand. He has to do it before his mum finds out, though, or all hell would break loose.

Soon enough, Tom's face turned pink when the thing he had his hand pressed upon was gaining a bit of girth. _Too early_ he thought, withdrawing his hand quickly. _I'll wait until we've told Mum…_

They were both on their backs a half hour later, gasping for air, and Danny laughed out loud when he heard Tom's stomach growl in protest. Tom's ears went pink and he hugged his belly in embarrassment.

"Come on," said Danny as he rose up from the bed. "Let's go to Memory Lane. I'm a bit hungry meself." Tom jumped off the bed and started getting dressed next to Danny, who was looking around for his discarded watch. Once they were ready, they left the house and made their way to the café.

::

"That was satisfying," exhaled Tom as he gulped down the last of his orange juice. Danny smiled and paid the waitress (the same one who waited them their first time there) who had just arrived at their table. As they watched the money land on the little black tray, Tom asked Danny something he'd been curious to ask.

"What do you do for a living?" he asked, eyeing Danny curiously. Danny's smile faded a bit, but came back the next second.

"I work part time delivering… erm… I don't really know what I deliver," Danny replied, a slight uncomfortability in his voice. Tom furrowed his eyebrows.

"You don't know what you deliver?"

"Yeah. They're always wrapped up in this… erm… brown paper bag. I never took a peek. I didn't feel the need to since they're not mine." He laughed uneasily, and all the while Tom noticed that it seemed like he was saying the answers at the top of his head. Tom wasn't convinced, but he didn't pester him with any more questions. If he wanted to tell Tom, he would have already. He didn't want to force Danny.

They were both silent for a while.

"Wanna go to my place?" asked Danny all of a sudden, making Tom jump a bit in surprise. Tom smiled and nodded, and soon they made their way out, waving goodbye to the waitress.

_I wonder why he's hiding his job from me…_ Tom thought as they walked along the sidewalk. _Is he embarassed about his job? Unless… He delivers illegal things!_

"You don't deliver drugs, do you?" asked Tom suddenly as he turned to Danny. Danny's eyes widened in surprise.

"Of course not!" Danny said, visibly appaled by the question. "Why on earth would you think that?" Guilt washed through Tom's body, and he jammed his hands in his pocket as he hung his head in response to Danny's bewildered face.

"Sorry…" Tom mumbled, biting the inside of his cheek. "Just forget I said anything." Danny tore his eyes away from Tom and looked overhead.

"You don't believe I deliver things as a job," he said with a smile. Tom nodded his head slightly, but it was so sublte it looked as though his head only spasmed. "I knew it. It was a long shot."

"Then why don't you tell me what you do?" Tom asked, lifting his head to look at Danny.

"I just don't think it's anything to worry about." He turned to Tom and punched him playfully on his shoulder. "Just know I'll stop when we tell your mum about us." Now Tom was _really_ worried, but he managed a convincing smile to mask it. _How will this relationship work if he's hiding things from me?_

They stayed silent during the rest of the way, and when they entered Danny's house, Tom immediately discarded his shoes, jumped on Danny's bed, and tangled himself in his sheets. He had taken a liking to them a while back because they were always soft and smelled like flowers.

"Did I ever tell you how much I love your sheets?" Tom exclaimed.

"Yeah, 'bout a thousand times," said Danny as he entered through the door. He kicked off his shoes, leaped across the room, and flopped face down next to Tom, who rolled over at the last second to avoid being flattened.

"Aww, why'd you move?" Danny asked with a smile. Tom only laughed in reply and tried to untangle himself from the sheets. Unsuccessful, he asked for Danny's aid.

"Serves you right!" Danny said and he prodded Tom's sides. He yelped loudly and soon began laughing, for Danny had begun tickling him. After pleading for five minutes, Tom was finally liberated from the wrath of Danny's fingers, which were now in the process of freeing Tom from the sheets.

It took a good three minutes before Tom managed to escape and dropped on the floor, his shoulder cushioning the fall. Danny quickly strode over to his side and helped him up.

"You alright, yeah?" Danny said, deep worry in his voice.

"Oh, yeah," said Tom, rubbing the area around his shoulder where it made contact with the floor. "Don't worry about it." Shooting Danny a smile of reassurance, he slid back onto the bed.

For reasons unknown to Tom, the accident sparked something between them, something that made Danny want to take Tom's shirt off. He kissed every part of Tom that was bare: his neck, his chest, his stomach…

Tom let out a gasp as he felt his belt unclasp. Danny was way too close to his private area, and he didn't know if he was ready. It took him and Giovanna a year before they made love, Tom being uncomfortable with the whole idea for the first part of their relationship.

Upon hearing the sound, Danny immediately ceased his action, lifted his head up, and looked at Tom, whose face was beet red.

"I…" Tom managed to say between breaths. "I don't think I'm ready…" His heart was racing, and some of his blood had already rushed south, and he felt uncomfortably confined in his pants. Danny smiled and nodded.

"Of course," he said, sliding up to level his gaze with Tom. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," said Tom, his breath returning to normal. "Let's just take it slow, okay?" He felt bad denying Danny sex, but he believed their relationship was still at an early age, and he didn't want to think Danny was only with him for sex, but at the same time he didn't want their relationship to platonic. In the silence, a thought ran across Tom's mind.

_He seemed to know what he was doing… Like he's done it before…_ He had to ask.

"Dan?" he said, turning to Danny. "Have you done this with anyone before?" Danny's expression became unreadable. It took him a while to answer, the tension building up between them like a thick fog.

"No," Danny finally replied. "I've told you, I had no friends. None at all." Tom tried to read his expression. _Is he lying? Is he telling me the truth? Dammit, let me know!_ But Tom decided to leave it at that. He inched over to Danny and rested his head on his chest like he did earlier in the morning.

His eyes wandered around the room and they fell at once on Danny's bedside table, on which a single knitting needle was sitting. _Now, what could this be doing here? I didn't know Danny knits…_

"What's the knitting needle for?" Tom asked, reaching his hand over to it. He picked it up and twirled it around his fingers.

"Oh, that. That's for a project," replied Danny.

"What are you making?"

"A scarf. It's taking me a while, though. I can't quite get it right. I keep missing stitches."

Tom smiled and placed it back on the table. The thought of Danny knitting seemed amusing to him. In a good way, of course.

"Will you show me when it's done?"

"Of course." Danny pecked him on the back of his head. At that moment, Tom wanted desperately to call Giovanna, but he didn't want to ruin the moment. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Danny's waist, humming a song using Danny's heartbeat as the background.


	7. Chapter 7

Tom tried to call Giovanna the next day. He must have dialed her number about fifty times or so, but every call always ended up on her very convincing voice mail ("Hello? Just kidding! I'm not here to take your call right now…"). He threw the telephone on his bed after trying one last time and groaned in frustration.

He wanted to end their relationship already so that he and Danny can move on with theirs. But that wasn't the only reason. After they parted the day before, Tom began worrying about the "person" coming over to visit. If it was his father, he wouldn't worry about it. He's just not going to tell him about Danny. He'll just tell Danny that his father was a homophobe who might murder his son when he finds out about his homosexuality. He'll understand.

If it was Giovanna, however, that was a different story. He had a couple of reasons why he didn't want it to be her; one, she would surely want to spend all her time in Bolton with him, and he wouldn't have time for Danny for the duration of the break; two, it's a given that Giovanna would tell Danny about their relationship, in turn ruining his and Danny's; and three, if he told Giovanna that they were breaking up when she comes over, then what was the point of her coming over in the first place? And surely, he'll have to provide a reason as to _why_ he was breaking up with her. He didn't have any female friends that would pretend to be his "love interest". Carla was taken, and they didn't know each other that well to do that. Of course, he could always tell her that long distance relationship wasn't working well for him. _Nah, that'll never work. She's going to suspect something, I just know it. I've dug too deep of a hole and I can't get out!_

Amidst all of that, he thought about Danny. Tom just couldn't bear to fathom what Danny's reaction would be if he found out. _I'd die…_

He had to end it with Giovanna as quickly as possible. There was no time to lose. The break was coming faster than he thought. He could already feel its claws wrapping themselves around his throat and his heart, getting tighter and tighter…

Tom felt for the phone with his left hand and, upon locating it, he tried to call her once more. He placed the receiver against his ear and waited impatiently, whispering "pick up" over and over again under his breath. To his surprise, someone picked up after the third ring, and the unmistakable voice that answered made his heart skip a beat.

"_Tom?_" Giovanna said on the other line. "_I have loads of missed calls from you? Has something happened?_" Tom didn't hesitate to get on with his mission.

"Gio, I have to tell you something," Tom started, turning around to lie on his back. "See, I'm—"

"_Hang on, Tom. Daddy's calling me,_" Giovanna interrupted, and Tom closed his eyes in irritation. He really wanted to get it over with right there and then, but he played with his hair instead as he waited. "_Yes, Daddy, I'm already packing…_" This statement made Tom widen his eyes in horror.

_Packing? No, that can't be… She's not… There's no way! There's just no fucking way!_ Giovanna's voice came back on, and he could feel his heart constrict.

"_Sorry, Tom, but I have to go. Things have been really hectic here. I'll call you back once everyone's calmed down. Yes, Daddy, I'm bringing the pink suitcase! I have to go now. Love you!_" With that, Tom heard her hang up, and the phone slipped out of his hand before he could turn it off. The low droning of the dial tone plucked each nerve in his body like guitar strings and he felt his stomach churn.

_Gio's the one visiting. That's just perfect!_ Tom grabbed the nearest pillow, slammed it over his face, and yelled at the top of his lungs.

It's too late to tell Danny about her, and he can't get hold of her to tell her they were over. It seemed the whole world was against him. He shook his head, his whole body tensing up with every passing second. It was his fault, though, he had to admit, and now he was going to experience the severe backlash. He should have told Danny about Giovanna the first time they hung out, and he shouldn't have made a move on him knowing he was in another relationship.

_She's not really coming over. She's packing for a completely different reason. Yeah, that'll do…_ He tried to convince himself of this, but it didn't work. He was trapped, and he could already see Giovanna covering the hole with a smile on her face. _I have to make sure…_

He pushed the "off" button on the phone to stop the incessant droning, slipped out of his room, and made his way downstairs.

"Mum?" he said loudly as he jumped the last step of the stairs.

"Yes, dear?" she said as she emerged from the kitchen, carrying a bowl containing a viscous material Tom didn't dare to ask.

"Is Giovanna the one coming over?" he asked instead, leaning on the wall opposite his mother, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Well, that would ruin the surprise, now, would it?" She smiled and turned to go back into the kitchen, but Tom called after her and she stopped in her tracks.

"I just called her up and she said she was already '_packing_' and that she was '_bringing the pink suitcase_'," he said, gesturing quotation marks with his fingers on the words he emphasized.

"Didn't she tell you?" she said, furrowing her eyebrows to show her confusion. "She and her father are going to Paris for the break. She's always wanted to go, the little sweetheart." She smiled more to herself rather than to Tom and absentmindedly sauntered back into the kitchen.

A wide smile formed on Tom's face and he felt like he was going to melt. He rocketed back upstairs to his room, slammed the door behind him, and threw himself on the bed, wincing when his side made contact with the phone. But he ignored the pain and laughed heartily to himself.

Words could not describe how happy Tom was. Now that he knew Giovanna wasn't coming after all, he could breathe properly again. Now he could call her anytime without worrying about her finding out beforehand. He rolled over on his back to liberate himself from the phone and punched and kicked the air, smiling from ear to ear. He could kiss Danny right about now. _Why think about it when I can do it!_

He sat up on the bed, grabbed the blue sweater draped on the headboard, and proceeded to make his way out of the house, waving goodbye to his mother along the way.

He ran to Danny's house and tried to turn the knob, but to his surprise, it didn't budge. _That's odd. He never locks his door since I'm the only one that ever goes to his house…_ He rang the bell three times and rapped on the door with his palm, but this didn't elicit any response from the other side. As he leaned his back against the door to wait for him, he started to worry.

Danny never had anywhere to go the whole time Tom had been in Bolton. _What if something's happened? No. I'm just overreacting… Maybe he's just at his job right now…_ He waited for a few uneventful minutes, but as he made a move to leave, he saw Danny walking towards him, keys in hand. Tom noticed that Danny's hair was slightly disheveled and curlier than it normally was, and his face was a bit pink.

"What's up?" Danny asked as he pecked Tom's cheek and slipped the key inside the keyhole. In their closeness, Tom smelled cologne on him, and he raised his eyebrow in suspicion. _Danny never wears cologne…_

"Where were you?" asked Tom with a smile as he followed Danny in. He sat on the sofa and watched Danny walk around the house.

"I was hungry so I decided to go to Memory Lane," Danny started, dropping his keys and wallet into a small metal plate sitting on a drawer. "But along the way I had to help this fellow who dropped his box of cologne. I think I got it everywhere." He laughed softly, strode over to Tom, and sat next to him. "Did you need something?" _Yeah, but that doesn't explain why your hair's like that..._

Tom smiled in relief anyway, jumped on Danny's lap, wrapped his arms around his neck, and kissed him vigorously. It took Danny a second to process everything together, but once he knew what was going on, he kissed back, his hands sliding over to Tom's hips. Tom reached up his hands over to his curly hair, entwining locks of hair around his fingers, as their tongues played with each other, swirling here and there. They maintained this position for who knows how long, which suited Tom just fine. He wanted to expel his happiness and this was the perfect way to do just that.

"What was that for?" asked Danny with a smile as their lips parted, panting heavily like all the other times.

"I've been craving it all day," replied Tom. "And plus, I think I've found out who's coming to visit." Tom fell backwards on the other side of the sofa and rested his legs on Danny's thighs.

"Who?" asked Danny, running his hand along Tom's legs just like he did for Giovanna.

"Well, Mum didn't really say exactly, but I have a strong feeling it's going to be Dad."

"Great. Are you going to introduce me?" Tom smiled at the question.

"Of course. But not as a couple." Danny eyed Tom curiously, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Why not?"

"Because Dad's one of the biggest homophobes I've ever known. If he finds out, he'll tear my guts out and feed it to his dogs." Danny's smile faltered slightly.

"Oh. Is your mum the same?" he asked, his face downcast.

"Of course not, silly. She'll completely understand when we tell her."

"And when is that, exactly?"

"When I think she's ready. Come on, Dan, don't worry about it. Really. Just wait."

"Alright." And they were silent for a while. Tom noticed that they keep having these pauses after each conversation. Then, as if Danny had remembered something, he shot up from the sofa and darted over to his wallet and keys.

"Come on. I've just gotten paid. I'm taking you out," he said as he motioned for Tom to come. Tom was still burning with curiosity as to what Danny does for a job, but he didn't want to break Danny's mood with another one of his questions. He got up and left the house with Danny.

"Anywhere you want, just tell me," said Danny as they walked along the sidewalk. Tom didn't want to go anywhere expensive, seeing as Danny still had bills to pay and all of those things. He could've settled for Memory Lane, but he didn't think Danny would like that idea since they go there about four times a week. Instead, he settled for a little restaurant just past the theaters.

Passing it by, the memories he had in it flooded back into his mind, and he couldn't help but smile.

They finally arrived at their destination, a restaurant called _Les Petites Choses_, and Danny held the door open for Tom. As they followed the man to their table, Tom asked Danny what the name of the restaurant meant. Naturally, Tom already knew, but he wanted to hear Danny say it to see if he was keeping up with his studies.

"I think it means 'the little things'," Danny replied as they took their seat. Tom smiled and looked over the menu laid out on the table. Danny did the same thing.

::

After leaving the restaurant feeling extremely full ("The food here's amazing!" said Tom as he had his third helping of shrimp), they decided to go to the mall. Tom had never been there, only passing it by every now and then, and he was curious to see the inside. They pushed through the glass doors and Tom widened his eyes in wonder.

The mall looked bigger inside than it did outside, and it was extremely crowded with people of all ages; little kids were playing on one of those mechanized rides that you had to put change in to make it work; toddlers led the way to their favorite candy stores, their mothers' hands tightly closed on theirs; teenagers not older than Tom were snogging each other on every available bench.

Tom wished he and Danny could do that, kiss anytime and anywhere they pleased. But he didn't want to raise eyebrows and hoard the spotlight all to themselves. He loathed being the center of attention, and he always did get nervous whenever eyes settled on him. He tore his eyes away from the teens when Danny dragged him to a nearby photo booth.

They slipped inside the tiny space, closed the black curtain, and sat on the seat provided. Danny grabbed some change in his pocket, fed the machine, and sat back to wait for more instructions. Tom had never been into one of these things, so naturally he didn't know how they worked. He would always pass them by in the mall back in Harrow, but he would only give them quick glances. When Danny saw confusion appear on Tom's face, he happily told him how the machine worked.

"Okay, this is how it works," he said, talking to their reflection on the screen in front of them. "After I press this one button right here (he indicated to a green button), it's going to take pictures of us four times. It's going to give us a few seconds to prepare, and then it's going to take a shot. Simple enough, yeah?" Tom nodded his reply and watched as Danny press the green button. Turning back to the screen, Tom discovered that the number "15" appeared on the top left corner of the screen, and it was counting down.

"Let's do a silly face!" Danny said heartily, and Tom didn't hesitate to comply. With Danny, he felt like he could do anything without worrying about the repercussions. Shot after shot, they did the silliest face they could muster, and a thin strip of their pictures slid out of a slot, much like tickets did after winning a certain game in the fair. Tom snatched it up, laughed, and showed it to Danny, who returned with a laugh of his own.

"Let's do another one! Natural this time," Danny said as he fed more change into the coin slot. Again, the number appeared right after the button was pressed, and he and Danny smiled at themselves in the reflection. Tom focused his eyes on Danny, analyzing his infectious and damn near perfect smile.

Nothing changed in the first two shots, but right before the third, Danny had his lips pressed upon Tom's cheek, and by the fourth, Tom had turned his head to kiss Danny back.

As their pictures slithered out of the slot, Tom was again the first to look at it. They looked so innocent, their smiles pure and childlike. His favorite had to be the third shot, when Danny caught him off guard with that kiss so close to his one dimple. He gave it to Danny and grabbed the other one.

"I'll keep the silly faces one. If my dad finds those pictures, he'll throw a fit," said Tom, gesturing to the one clutched in Danny's fingers. Danny smiled in return.

They spent the rest of their time wandering around the mall, Tom slurping a strawberry smoothie from a straw and Danny happily eating a big pretzel. Tom bought him and Danny shirts from a clothing store. Tom's shirt had "The Beatles" slapped on the front in black against a green background while Danny's had "Sex Pistols" on his in white against a blue background. Danny, in return, bought Tom a furry, blue stuffed bear not much longer than his forearm from a nearby toy store ("I think I'll call him Little Johnny," said Tom).

After hitting some more stores, they decided to call it a day, and Danny walked Tom home carrying their things in a plastic bag. As they reached his door, Danny grabbed his shirt, placed the bag in Tom's hand, and kissed him one last time before turning around to leave.

It was when he entered the door that he realized it had been ten o'clock for almost twenty minutes. He saw his mother slumped on the sofa, eyes closed tightly in deep sleep, her face illuminated by the flashing lights the television provided. Tom walked over to it, turned it off, kissed his mother on the cheek, and made his way upstairs to his room as quietly as he possibly could. He closed it lightly behind him, kicked off his shoes, shrugged off his sweater, and threw the plastic bag on his bed. He walked over to the bedside table and placed the strip of pictures next to his pile of tokens, but he immediately picked it back up and sat down on his bed to look at it one last time.

He couldn't imagine his life in Bolton without Danny by his side. He wondered what would have happened if he had asked a completely different person during his first day of school. _Would I have ever known Danny even existed?_ He kissed Danny's face on the first picture (they were doing kissy faces in that one) and set it back down.

He pulled out the shirt out of the plastic bag, unfolded it, and draped it on the headboard, deciding that he would wear it tomorrow. Next, he pulled out the bear and discarded the bag on the floor beside his bed. He slid under the covers, held Little Johnny in his arms, and clicked his lamp off. At once, his room was flooded by darkness, but he didn't go to sleep immediately. He stared at the ceiling for some time, imagining that Danny's face was plastered all over it. _I just have to call her after she gets back from her trip. Hope we'll stay friends…_

Thinking about Giovanna made him think about the time they spent together, from the time they saw each other last, to their last date, to their last intimate time together, and finally to their first meeting.

He remembered it vividly as if it had happened yesterday.

She was a new student in his high school back in Harrow, and she didn't have many friends. Through his friend, they got to know each other better, and one day he finally asked her out. She didn't think twice about saying "yes" and he immediately took her on a date. After a year, they finally decide to have sex, and, as Tom remembered, it was one of the best moments in his life. He had never done it with anybody before, but Giovanna, who already had, guided him the whole way. He used protection, of course, since he didn't want to take care of a baby at such a young age. Their intimate moments became more frequent with every week that passed.

However, the more they did it, the more distant they seemed to become. Tom noticed this during their second year, and he wondered what the problem was. He finally figured it out after abstaining for a month. To him, it seemed that their relationship revolved around sex, and when they refrained, their love was rekindled.

_That's my fear, isn't it? Why I don't want to have sex with Danny right away? It's not really about waiting after I've told Mum about us, it never was. It's the fact that we might grow distant after having it… I don't want our relationship to revolve around sex… I want more than that. I want_you, _Danny… But I guess I'll never really know unless I try…_

"Please be different, Danny…" he whispered under his breath, tore his gaze away from the ceiling, and rubbed his eyes. School would resume tomorrow, and he didn't want to be late again.

He turned to his side, rested his chin at the top of Little Johnny's head, and drifted off to sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

A soft _thud _from somewhere opened Tom's eyes, and they swiveled around to locate the source of the sound. It was still dark outside, as he could see from the open window, and usually he would wonder what time it was, but this time he didn't care. He reluctantly sat up, which took a bit of time, as he was still a bit groggy, and looked around, his eyes blinking uncoordinatedly. He recalled the events that happened the day before, and his eyes immediately searched for Little Johnny. Discovering it on the floor next to his bed, he finally figured out the mystery of the sound.

As he extended an arm to grab it, a sudden breeze enveloped his body, and, after realizing he had taken his shirt off in the middle of the night, he shivered. He got hold of Little Johnny's ear, hauled it up, and pulled the blanket around his shoulders for warmth. He didn't want to go all the way over to the window to shut it. In the comfort of the covers, he pondered for a while, innumerable questions burning his brain.

_What really is Danny's job? Why did he smell of cologne yesterday? Why was his hair like that? Why is he hiding things from me?_ He stopped at the last thought. _Why am_ I _hiding things from him? He deserves to know about Giovanna. About our situation…_ He buried his face in Little Johnny's. _Oh, why did I ever make that move? Stupid, stupid, stupid… I have to tell him. I have to. If he loves me like I know he does, he'd understand… Wouldn't he? _He turned to his side, exposing his back to the cold, but he didn't make a move to cover it up.

He tried to go back to sleep, but the tormenting thoughts drilled in his brain, and instead he shifted on the bed, looking for the perfect spot. Unsuccessful, he got up and slipped into the bathroom. He kicked off his undergarments and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He could see the beginnings of dark circles under his eyes and, as he studied his stomach, that he put on a bit of weight. He trailed his finger along the disappearing contours of his abdomen and sighed heavily. His weekly runs had taken a backseat after they moved, and he never seemed to have enough time to continue them.

He tore his eyes away from his reflection and made for the shower. He spent about half an hour in there, the rush of water against his skin comforting to him. Once finished, he dried himself up, brushed his teeth, and dug in his closet for trousers. He slipped a pair on, grabbed his new shirt from the headboard, and put it on. Seizing his bag from the corner, he grudgingly walked downstairs and proceeded making himself breakfast.

He managed to produce an omelet and some sausages. Usually, he would make more than one omelet and even a serving of hash browns, but as he remembered what he had seen in the mirror, the whole idea repulsed him. He placed them on a plate, went over to the refrigerator to get a bottle of water, and set them on the table. He could see through the curtains that the sun was beginning to rise, the panoply of the warm golden light muffled by the fabric, and he began to eat.

As he finished his omelet, he heard footsteps descending the stairs, and he looked over his shoulder just in time to see Mrs. Fletcher slip into the kitchen. He gulped down the last of his water, went into the kitchen to kiss his mother goodbye ("Isn't it a bit too early?" she asked), and opened the door.

The intense light of the sun poured inside the house, momentarily blinding him, and he turned away to avoid further irritation to his eyes. Raising a hand to lessen the impact, he ambled onto the sidewalk and closed the door behind him. He had forgotten how bright the sunrise was in contrast to the darkness that its rays couldn't reach, but he really didn't have the energy to remember in the first place.

He strolled along, his hands buried in his pockets, and he whistled a tune to keep himself company. _I'll talk to him when I get the chance… I can't put this off any longer…_

It took him longer than he'd expected to arrive, and he had already seen a few students pass him by on the way to the double doors. He opened them and let himself in the hallway, which, oddly enough, was already bustling with activity. _But school doesn't start for twenty minutes…_

Some were huddled together discussing something under their breaths. Others were wandering around with no particular destination. What they all had in common, however, was that all of their attentions were focused on their mobile phones.

_That's not normal…_ Tom thought, shrugging, as he pushed his way through the clusters of people, not really caring what all the commotion was about. Soon enough, he heard whispers everywhere—if you could call them that. The whispers were loud enough to wake the whole neighborhood, and as he looked around to listen, he learned that _he_was the subject. Eyes peered over their cellular phones and glared at Tom, some having fits of giggles as he passed them by, some crinkling their nose in disgust.

_What did I do? _He asked himself as he turned a corner, feeling more and more insecure as the seconds fluttered by. He wanted to look back to see if their eyes were still following him, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He sighed in relief when the hallway before him was empty, and he made his way to his class as quickly as he could, his footsteps echoing faintly amidst the sea of whispers behind him.

Upon entering the room, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he felt a jolt run through his body when he saw his entire class—with the exception of Danny—looking at him intently, cellular phones in their hands. He made his way to his desk, taking everything he had to avoid eye contact with any of them, and settled himself in his seat. Their eyes followed him discreetly, and not long after sitting down, two males stood up from their chairs and made their way to him.

His heart began racing. He didn't know what their purpose was, but they seemed intent on exacting it on him.

"Fletcher," one of them said, Christopher as Tom could recall. "Where's your little whore?" They burst into bouts of laughter, but Tom merely looked at them in return, eyes furrowed in confusion.

"What are you talking about?" he asked sincerely. He had never hired a prostitute to pleasure him all his life. They laughed even more, Christopher incoherently saying something to his friend.

"Ah, that's rich, eh, Tim?" Christopher laughed, nudging the one called Tim on his arm. Tom stood up, his eyes squinted in anger, his hands balled into fists. He could feel the sharp pain as his nails dug into the skin of his palm, but he ignored it.

"What are you talking about?" Tom repeated fiercely. The two looked at each other and laughed some more. The rest of the class joined in, and Tom could feel his blood boiling. Tim was the first to recover, and he pushed his phone in Tom's chest. Tom grabbed hold of it, pushed the button in the middle, and watched as a video began to play.

The close-up of a familiar face met his eyes—Danny.

He had his eyes squeezed tight, biting his bottom lip, his face going in and out of view. The sound the video provided wasn't of the highest quality, but Tom could make out laughter and low grunting. When the camera pulled back from Danny's face, Tom's eyes widened in horror at the new sight before him: Danny was leaning over the sink, his hands grabbing the edges, his trousers wrapped around his ankles, and Cole holding his waist behind him.

The camera panned to Jimmy's face (he was apparently the one taking the video) and he was saying something that Tom didn't bother to decipher. His attention was solely focused on what was behind him. What he could make out, however, was "Come on, Danny-boy! Make Cole believe you're worth his money!"

The bathroom incident flooded back into his mind immediately. _He wasn't beaten up that day! He was raped!_

He pressed the middle button again, not wanting to see anymore, and shoved the phone back into Tim's hand. He eyed the two with disgust and fury.

"That's not prostitution!" he yelled aloud, oblivious to the eyes of his classmates. Christopher had stopped laughing and was now looking at Tom in disbelief. "That's fucking rape, you fucking idiots!" He collected his bag and stormed his way to the door. Along the way, however, he heard Christopher say something like "probably has his prick sucked for free" and Tom stopped in his tracks, his knuckles turning white, gritting his teeth. He turned on the spot and swiftly landed a punch across Christopher's jaw.

"Fuck you!" he bellowed and ran out of the class. A small crowd had already gathered around the immediate area outside the door, but he angrily pushed his way through them, ignoring their protests. He kicked the double doors open and made his way to Danny's house.

::

"Danny!" Tom screamed, banging on the door with the side of his fists. Nobody answered. He grabbed the doorknob quickly and twisted it, the reassuring click revealing it wasn't locked. He pushed the door all the way open and slammed it shut, his eyes scanning the place for any sign of Danny. Failing to locate him, Tom dropped his bag on the floor and made for Danny's room.

He found Danny sitting in his bed, his head buried in his arms, hugging his knees much like he did when Tom found him in the bathroom. Danny slowly lifted his head to look at the intruder, and Tom felt his heart drop when he saw his tear-stained cheeks. He stayed under the doorsill.

"Come to break up with me?" he asked coldly, looking away from Tom's eyes and out the window. Tom's eyes widened at the sentiment, but he kept his feet rooted to the spot. _What is he talking about? Why would I do that? _Danny wiped his cheek with his sleeve. "I understand. I mean, who'd want to have a relationship with a whore anyway?" Tom felt his heart being ripped from its confines, but he still didn't make a move to comfort Danny, something that he felt he should have done as soon as he found him crying.

"So you _are_a prostitute…" Tom whispered, more to himself than to Danny, but Danny had heard it.

"What are you waiting for, then? Just lock the door when you leave. I can't handle any more humiliation." The statement sliced though Tom's heart, and he wanted to pull Danny into a hug at that moment, but for some reason, he couldn't. Wouldn't.

"I'm not leaving you," said Tom bluntly, closing the door behind him. "I'm staying right here." Danny looked at him and gave a soft laugh as he nodded to himself.

"I get it," he said, standing up, wiping the last of the wetness on his cheek, and he extended a hand. "I usually ask for the money up front." Tom furrowed his eyebrows when he realized what the gesture had meant.

"What are you talking about? I'm not going to pay you to have sex with me!" Danny stared at Tom and dropped his hand.

"Then why are you still here?" Tom was befuddled by his icy question and by the emotion he was evoking. Danny's face was completely unreadable.

"Why are you acting like this?" asked Tom sharply, and he could feel his face getting hotter.

"What are you still doing here?" Danny retorted severely, leaving Tom dumbstruck. "If you don't want to pay me, I don't see the point of you staying. It's obvious you're repulsed by me—I can see it in your eyes." He turned around and sat back down on his bed. Tom was getting frustrated, and he balled his hands into fists. _Where the hell did he get that idea from? Damn it, Danny, why are you being so difficult!_

"I am not! I want you to talk to me about it, that's why I want to stay!" Tom bellowed, unleashing his pent-up frustration. He didn't know why Danny was being so unbearably unreasonable, but his heart was aching to find out.

"Talk to you about what?" Danny said, his voice cracking, turning to Tom. "That I fuck complete strangers for money? That I'm a fucking whore? Sorry, Fletcher, but that's about all there is to it." Tears were already pooling around Danny's eyes, and it hurt Tom to look at him. This was not Danny. Danny was always smiling, always laughing, always happy about everything. _That _was the Danny that he knew, not the broken young man he looking at right now.

"That's not what I meant," Tom said defensively, advancing toward him. "I meant about you getting raped in the bathroom! Why didn't you say anything?"

"You wouldn't have believed me," Danny replied coldly as he wiped a tear before it had the chance to roll along his cheek, moving farther away from Tom as he got closer. "Nobody ever does. In everyone's mind, prostitutes don't get raped because they're willing." He was crying now, and Tom could feel gravity pulling him closer to him.

"Do you really believe that?"

Danny's body froze and he looked at Tom, who had already taken the space next to him. He placed a hand on Danny's thigh and continued. "We're best mates, Dan, I'd believe anything you say." They looked in each other for some time, Tom immersing himself in the splendor of Danny's blue eyes.

"You don't care that I'm—" Danny began, but he was interrupted by the sudden pressure of Tom's lips against his.

"Of course I don't," Tom reassured him as he pulled back. "You're still the same Danny I know. The same Danny I love. So what if you're paid to have sex? Your heart belongs to _me_doesn't it? Isn't that all that matters?" All of a sudden, it didn't matter to Tom that Danny had lied to him about his job so many times. All he wanted now was Danny—the real Danny.

Tom leaned back in for another kiss, and this time Danny kissed back, his hands wrapping around Tom's neck. Soon, Tom found himself situated on top of Danny, who was lying on his back, their lips never ceasing to make contact, their tongues playing with each other like all the other times, but this time was a bit different. Tom couldn't put his finger on it, but it seemed that this particular kiss was the most passionate they had ever shared.

In that moment, all his fears rushed back into him, and, as he ran his fingers through Danny's curly locks and felt Danny's hands caressing his back, he felt as if though he was betraying him.

_Danny's divulged his secrets to me, but I'm too much of a coward to tell him mine. That's not fair to him. I don't think I can continue with this relationship until I tell him about Giovanna…_

Tom broke off the kiss and abruptly stood up, and Danny looked at him with confusion and longing.

"What's wrong—" Danny asked, beginning to stand up.

"I'm sorry, Danny," interrupted Tom, and he ran out of the house, leaving Danny standing alone in the middle of the room. He made his way back to his own house, kicking a crushed can of soda along the way.

He felt bad leaving him like that, but he couldn't go on being with Danny with Giovanna still in the picture. All the other times, he wouldn't have minded, but after finding out what his big secret was, he couldn't help but feel like a traitor. Danny had enough courage to tell Tom, even if it _was_ a bit forced, but he still _did_. And Tom _didn't_. He could've told Danny about Gio the moment he parted his lips, but he didn't want to hurt his feelings after the whole incident that had just happened. But if Danny finds out before Tom told him, things would only get worse…

_Come on, Tom! Pluck up the courage and tell him already, before it's too late!_He shook his head, took a deep breath, and turned around, his eyes falling straight to Danny's house. He tentatively made his way back there, his heart racing faster with every step.

As he approached the door, he knocked softly, his hands trembling as he did so. He tried his best to contain his anxiety, but his face told a different story. He waited patiently, his head saying _please answer the door_ and his heart saying _please don't_. These conflicting feelings made him more uneasy, and he turned around to leave when no answer came. But as he took a step forward, the door opened, and looking back, he saw Danny, his face and the front of his shirt wet with tears.

"What do you want?" asked Danny nonchalantly, his shoulder leaning on the doorsill, his arms crossed over his chest. Tom swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat and moved closer to him.

"Danny, I have to tell you something," Tom managed to say, his voice a little hoarse. He swore he could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears, and as he looked into Danny's eyes, he swore that he could hear it too.

"Well, what is it?" Tom took a deep breath and jammed his hands in his pocket, balancing himself on the balls of his feet. He couldn't believe he was going to divulge something that could break their relationship in a matter of seconds.

"Danny," he began, and he could feel Danny's eyes burning through his, and he could feel beads of sweat running down his temples. _It's now or never..._ "I'm—"


End file.
